"I'm dumb. “Yes. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. And nowhere could I obtain the slightest information. Rumor in the Palazzo had it that her new doctor was a powerful archbishop from the south who conducted most of his dealings in secret. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred.
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